


The Promise

by satanchangedmypresets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:37:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanchangedmypresets/pseuds/satanchangedmypresets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is caught in a spell that launches him into his own future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Promise

He could hear sirens in the background, almost see the flashing lights. There was a light, glowing bright against his eyes, but it wasn’t flashing and it felt fairly familiar.

“Is he alive?” The voice sounded even _more_ familiar.

“Yes,” Rough, gravelly voice like the sound of a cascading waterfall crashing over the stone below. _Castiel._ “He will be all right but we need to get him out of plain view.”

“Cas…” he coughed as an arm slipped below his shoulder, cradling him carefully.

“It’s okay, Dean. I’ve got you.”

He was being carried quickly, like a _girl_ no less, and he heard the tell-tale sound of the Impala’s door opening and then Castiel was sliding in, still holding him close. He leaned into Castiel’s chest, the angel was so damn warm and he was _so_ cold. Castiel didn’t seem to mind, just tightened his arms around him, smoothing his hair back. Castiel had never been so affectionate with him before and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

Doors slammed and the engine purred into life. Dean tried to remember what had happened before the light. He and Sam had been hunting down a demon that’d been making people commit suicide. Castiel had come in the middle of the fight when things had been getting hazy but the demon had one last ace and attacked Castiel with an Enochian chant that put the angel on the floor, coughing up blood. Then he’d been thrown against a wall and the light consumed him.

“Dude!” he yelped, sitting up and turning to face Castiel. “Are you okay? That demon…”

Castiel was different. And not different in a way he could shrug off either. The angel was dressed in a blue Oxford shirt and khaki slacks, both now stained with blood, his blood. His hair was longer, not much longer, but noticeably longer and his eyes seemed…deeper.

“You…”

“It’s okay, Dean.” Not-Castiel started again, offering his hands up carefully.

“Dude, if you’re going to spazz, not in my car.”

Dean spun at the sound of his own voice, staring at an older version of himself in the driver’s seat. The passenger seat was empty and he felt Castiel’s arms slipping back around his waist.

“It’s okay, Dean.” Castiel repeated and Dean let the angel pull him back.

“Where am I?” He demanded as they slowed to stop, the light ahead of them red.

“2021.” Future Dean answered and Dean looked to Future Castiel, who nodded in confirmation.

“So the Mayans were off by a few years?”

Future Dean chuckled and Castiel gave him a sympathetic look.

“You said there was a demon…”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, Sam and I were…where’s Sammy?”

“School,” Future Dean answered from the front seat, tapping his hands on the wheel until the light finally turned green.

“He went back to school?”

“Yeah, he’s a professor now. Religion and Theology.”

“It seemed appropriate, concerning the events of our past.” Castiel said softly.

Dean was aware the angel had a hand on his shoulder and another on his wrist, gently holding him in case he decided to freak out again. The hand on his shoulder traced a circle over his jacket, oddly soothing.

“So we’re out?” he said softly, sitting back against the seat and Castiel shifted towards him.

“Yeah, been out for a while.” Future Dean said quietly. “There was a really bad skirmish about four years ago. Sam and I were both in a coma for weeks until Cas could put himself back together and pull us out.”

“Put himself…back together?”

“It was difficult.” Castiel said softly from beside him. “But I managed. I always do.”

Dean looked from the angel sitting next to him to the man driving the Impala. 2021…that meant the 2014 future had at least been averted. They weren’t hunting anymore, Sam was a friggin’ professor, and Castiel was…

“Are you okay?” he asked Castiel softly and the angel’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I’m perfectly fine, Dean. Why?”

“You’re not like…crazy, or stressed, or homesick, or on drugs or anything?”

Amusement lit in Castiel’s eyes, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he shook his head slowly.

“No, Dean, I am well. Thank you for your concern.”

Future Dean scoffed in the front seat and Dean fought the urge to glare at him. Was he really this much of an asshole to Castiel? Why the hell did the angel hang around then?

He turned his head when Castiel lifted his shirt to peer at the gash the demon had put in his side. It was still slowly leaking blood and Dean waited for the familiar burn of Castiel’s grace. Instead, Castiel gingerly laid his fingers over the wound, checking it thoroughly before he straightened.

“I will stitch that up for you when we get home.”

“Stitch…?” Dean remarked in surprise and Castiel offered him a quiet smile.

“My abilities are not as strong as they used to be. I save my grace as much as possible in case it is needed which, if we intend to return you to your own time, it will be.”

Dean swallowed slowly and turned his head as Future Dean laughed.

“Stop being so fucking morbid, Cas.”

Castiel glanced up and for a moment, Dean saw something like fear in his eyes before Cas slumped back against the seat, chastised.

“Yes, Dean.”

Castiel didn’t speak again until they reached a small house out in the woods, miles from the edge of town. It wasn’t what Dean expected. It was quiet, quaint little cottage, wildflowers budding along the drive and around the house. He could just see a garden off the corner of the house and another guest house further along the drive.

“You guys live here?” he asked incredulously and a smile broke out over Castiel’s face.

“Yes,” he said happily. “I maintain the flowers and the garden. Dean runs the shop.”

He could see it now, the large green sign that said ‘WINCHESTER BODY AND RESTORATION’ in bright white letters. Beyond it was a well-maintained garage and there was a red Chevy sitting outside the closed door, a man smoking casually from the driver’s seat.

“Get down, Dean,”

Dean doubled over quickly which put his head in close quarters with Castiel’s lap. Castiel just laid a hand over his back, going as still as he possibly could.

“Looks like we got a customer,” Future Dean said shortly, his gaze meeting Castiel’s through the mirror. “Wait until I get him inside the garage, and then take mini-me inside.”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel nodded and Dean parked the car in front of the house, getting out quickly and jogging over to the red Chevy. He greeted the man with a smile and Dean could practically hear him apologizing for not being there. Castiel was watching them through the window and his hand had slid up to Dean’s nape in a way that had seemed involuntary and natural. Dean forced himself to relax.

“Should we go now?”

Castiel hesitated for a second then nodded. “Yes, Dean.”

In that moment, Dean was 100% certain that if he heard one more ‘Yes, Dean’ out of the angel’s mouth, he was going to go knock some sense into his future self. He didn’t know what had turned Castiel into this subservient little bitch but it was pissing him off.

Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder as he crawled out of the car, keeping a careful watch on the garage, and then led him into the house as fast as Dean could stumble up the stairs. That was how Dean found himself sitting on the counter of a spotless bathroom decorated with creepy-looking cherubs and blue flowers.

“The decorations came with the house,” Castiel said softly, pulling out a hospital-grade first aid kit and setting it on the counter. Dean slowly pulled his shirt off, wincing slightly when the blood-soaked cloth pulled at the wound.

For a moment, there was silence while Castiel wet a cloth with hot water and began gingerly cleaning the wound.

“How long have you guys been here?”

“A couple years.” Castiel answered softly. “Sam stays in the guest house you saw, Dean lives here. I stay…around.”

“Bastard doesn’t even give you your own room?” Dean snapped and Castiel flinched.

“He…he likes his privacy.”

Castiel dropped the blood-soaked cloth into the sink and used an alcohol swab to finish cleaning the gash before he set up what he’d need to stitch it up. Dean found himself almost mesmerized by the uniform way the angel moved, all quick, clean, and precise.

“What’d he do to you, Cas?”

Castiel shook his head and Dean only flinched when the needle first pierced his skin. Then Castiel’s quick movements made short work of the rest of the stitches.

“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, man, seriously. You act like a dog that’s scared it’s going to get kicked every time he speaks. You stay here with Dean and Sam, you obviously cook and clean for this man, and yet you act like you don’t belong here?”

“Dean has never indicated otherwise.”

Dean stopped, staring blankly down at the angel. The angel who’d stopped everything just to fix him up, whose hands were covered in his blood. The angel who had come to their aid countless times, even when he knew it might mean his own death. And no one…no, _he_ had never once told him how much he meant to him, how much he meant to Sam and to this family and…

“Cas…”

Castiel looked up at him with wide, blue eyes. He knew that once they’d been Jimmy Novak’s but Castiel was the one who made them so…so _limitless_.

“Dean.”

Dean looked up at his own voice, seeing his future self standing just outside the doorway.

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, guy just wanted to know if we had his parts in yet which we don’t, so I said I’d call him when we do. Cas…why don’t you go downstairs for a minute? I think Ladybird looked lonely.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Castiel wandered downstairs and Dean was left alone in the bathroom with his future self. He watched as the cold aloof exterior faded away to be replaced by depression, anger, and sadness.

“What did he say to you?”

“Just that you don’t let him stay here.” Dean snapped. “And you’ve never told him how much he matters and how many times he’s saved your ass and…”

He stopped when Future Dean held up a hand. “And he didn’t seem off to you?”

“Off? He’s a soldier of God and you’ve got him acting like a kicked puppy!” Dean nearly shouted, happy that his future co-part flinched under the attack.

“He’s insane, Dean.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to flinch, staring back at himself in wonder.

“You’re lying.” But he knew he wasn’t because he knew his own tells. Future Dean just laughed bitterly.

“I wish to hell I was. That skirmish a few years ago? That was Heaven dragging him back in chains. I don’t know what they did to him because he won’t talk about it but when he came back, he was like this. He won’t believe anything we say to tell him he’s a soldier, that he’s fine, that he’s more than a goddamn housewife but they’ve brainwashed him into thinking he’s our _pet._ We had to stop going on hunts because he wouldn’t stop throwing himself in front of us.”

Future Dean shook his head slowly. “Sam is better with him than I am. I lose my patience too easy and I snap at him. Sam is soft and caring, always holding him and telling him he’s safe and that we love him. I’m not that great at it. I tried and Cas kept giving me these looks like he knew I was lying, even when I wasn’t. I couldn’t get through to him. I tried everything. Sam’s better with dealing with the lack of results.”

“Give him a few minutes,” Future Dean continued, leaning against the door frame as Dean slid down from the counter. “He’ll have forgotten the whole fight in the car. He’ll come back up here carrying a kitten or a sandwich or something from the garden like it’s the greatest thing in the world he’s ever done and I won’t be able to say anything because every time I look at him, all I see is what he used to be. What I took from him.”

He sighed. “I think I know why you’re here, Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked quietly, afraid he might choke if he spoke louder. “Why’s that?”

“Because I was going to kill him today.”

-

Dean and his future counterpart stood side by side on the wraparound porch. Dean leaned against the railing while the future Dean leaned back against the side of the house, a glass of whiskey in his hand. They both watched as Castiel played on his hands and knees in the grass, surrounded by a happy rabble of both kittens and puppies.

“We foster orphaned pets from the animal shelter,” Future Dean explained, breaking the silence. “He likes baby animals.”

Dean watched in silence as Castiel flopped on his back, letting two of the three puppies crowd onto his chest.

“Kids love him too,” he heard from behind him. “But we’re not fostering any of those.”

Future Dean sighed at his continued silence. “You see, Dean, we’ve done everything humanly possible to try and make him comfortable. We let him take care of us. We let him play in the dirt with the puppies. A friggin’ angel of the Lord but we stopped fighting it because here, like this, he’s happy and we owe him that.”

“Dean,”

For a moment, Dean was unsure which one of them Castiel was addressing but as Castiel walked up the steps, cradling a tiny bundle of fur in hands that could slay demons, he made it obvious he wasn’t aiming for the Dean of his time.

“This is Mary,” he said softly, offering Dean the yellow tabby.

“Mary?” Dean repeated, incredulous as Castiel tipped the tiny kitten into his waiting hands. Mary got shakily to her feet then reached out, placing a paw against his lips, claws in. Castiel’s smile could’ve challenged the sun and even Future Dean couldn’t hide the slightest upturn of his lips. Slowly, he stretched up off the wall.

“Sam should be home soon so I’m going to go get supper started.”

“I’ll do it!” Castiel said brightly before disappearing. A few seconds later, Dean could make out the sounds of pans in the kitchen as Future Dean cursed.

“You see what I mean?”

Dean set the kitten back on the ground, turning to face himself angrily.

“Look, just because he’s a little psycho doesn’t mean you can kill him!” He snapped.

“We’ve been doing this for years!” Future Dean retorted, stepping forward so their faces were bare inches apart. “At first, I had hope. I tried reminding him of what he used to be, what we did together, and you know what I saw in his eyes when he tried, when he fought to remember just because I asked it of him? Fear. And every time he looked at me after that? Fear. I don’t know what goes on in his head, Dean, but I know he’s afraid of me for some goddamn reason. I just…”

He froze as Castiel had reappeared next to them. “Apple or blueberry?”

Both Deans stared at him in surprise before Castiel smiled, rolling his eyes slightly.

“For the _pie._ ” He laughed.

Future Dean rolled his eyes but Dean felt himself cave under the weight of Castiel’s bright blue eyes, so happy, so free. So untroubled so…empty.

“Why don’t you surprise us?” he offered and Castiel grinned, flickering off once again.

Once Cas was gone, he turned back on his future self.

“Look, I don’t care how bad it’s gotten or how fucked up you think he is, nothing in this world gives you the right to decide when he lives or dies. You owe him too damn much.”

“Yeah?” Future Dean came back. “Have you ever told your Cas how much you care?”

He leaned forward to whisper into Dean’s ear. “Because I know how much you care about him. I _know_ that you love him, not the same way you love Sam but in a way that’s just as powerful, just as fierce.”

Future Dean leaned back, leaving Dean with an almost frightened look in his eyes. “I know how you feel and you know how I feel. So tell me that you could handle seeing him like this for years, knowing it’s your own damn fault, and not want to put him out of his misery?”

Dean didn’t speak and the other walked past him, heading around the front of the house. A moment later, he heard the garage door slam and he sighed, sinking into the nearest chair.

What was he doing here? How was he supposed to fix this?

He closed his eyes, felt the familiar buzz of Castiel’s grace, and opened his eyes to find himself standing in the kitchen. Castiel was holding a spoonful of what looked like apple pie filling.

“Taste for me?”

Dean felt his heart break even as he obediently lowered his head to try it, tears pricking at his eyes as the sweet tang of apple broke over his tongue. He could see it now, looking into Castiel’s eyes. Far beyond the serene blue and beyond the galaxies of grace and power that made up his angel, there was brokenness, emptiness, and anguish.

“It’s good,” he said softly and Castiel beamed.

“Help me with the crust?”

“Sure,” Dean offered, slowly going to stand next to Castiel while the angel kneaded dough for the pie crust. Even though he’d asked for help, Castiel gave him no instruction and didn’t even seem to expect him to do anything except stand nearby.

“Cas…” Dean started carefully, afraid to spook the fragile thing his angel had become. “Why are you afraid of Dean?”

Castiel paused in shaping the crust over the pie, biting his lip for a moment. “I am not afraid of Dean. I am afraid of losing him.”

“What makes you think you are going to lose him?” Dean pressed gently.

“I disobeyed him. I broke my promise.”

“What promise?”

“He said ‘don’t ever change.’ And I have changed so much. I’ve hurt him. One day I will be punished for my sins and then everything will be better.”

Dean grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around. “Cas, you can’t honestly believe that bull!”

Castiel stared up at him, his arms tucked against his chest. “I speak only what I know, Dean.”

“Oh, Cas,” Dean breathed. The angel looked up at him, forlorn, before shaking his head. Something flashed in his eyes then he smiled.

“Dean, I have to put the pie in the oven.”

-

Future Dean was pacing in the garage when his cell phone rang, Sam’s picture appearing in the window.

“Hey,”

_“Hey, Dean, um…is Cas around?”_

“No, he’s inside the house. I’m in the garage right now.”

_“Right. That thing we’ve been checking out, it’s definitely a haunting but the bones were cremated. The school has the professor’s glasses on display, I think we should head over.”_

Future Dean nodded despite knowing that Sam couldn’t see him. “I’m on my way.”

-

An hour passed with no word from Future Dean and Castiel was reenacting his first experience truly flying as Dean nursed his third beer. The pie was cooling on the counter and Castiel flopped onto the couch when he fell in his story.

“It took me years to try again; I was so scared I was going to fall out of Heaven and plummet straight down to earth.”

“I hate flying.” Dean agreed. “It scares the crap out of me.”

Castiel smiled. “Well, you’ve never flown with me before. I’d never let you fall.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah…maybe. Let me get a little drunker and you can offer again.”

Castiel laughed but it was hollow on his ears and that strange emptiness was back in his eyes. Dean leaned forward, blaming the warmth of the alcohol as he slid a hand under Castiel’s chin, tilting his head up.

“I think I’d like flying with you.”

Castiel smiled but it was too bright and it made his heart ache. Dean sighed. “Cas, I need a favor.”

“Anything, Dean.”

“When you send me back…can you send me to the night we met?”

“Why?”

“I just…” Dean smiled softly. “There’s something I need to do.”

Castiel suddenly went very still, looking up at Dean with fear-filled eyes. Dean’s eyes widened and he sat up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Dean…Dean and Sam, they’re in trouble.”

Castiel’s hand closed over his wrist and the next second they were in what appeared to be a school hallway, lockers lining the wall. Dean quickly drew his gun and ran after Castiel, the angel flying through the hallways guided only by instinct. There was a crash ahead of them and Dean saw Sam thrown into a trophy case, the glass shattering around him. The ghost materialized in front of them as Dean came flying through the doorway, leveling the shotgun at the shimmering professor.

The ghost raised a hand, slamming Future Dean into the wall, the shotgun skidding down the hall. It raised its hands, hooking them into claws and screeching as it lunged forward.

“DEAN!” Castiel shouted and Future Dean’s eyes went wide as he turned to see them standing there.

“CAS, NO!”

It was too late and blood burst from Castiel’s lips as he appeared between the ghost and Future Dean, the ghost’s hands digging into his chest, inching deeper, pressing him back against Future Dean. Dean ran down the hall, grabbing the shotgun and spinning, firing into the ghost and it dissipated. Behind him, Sam grabbed the glasses from the case, poured salt and lighter fluid over them and lit it with his lighter. A flash of light and the ghost was gone.

Future Dean slowly lowered the broken Castiel to the floor, the angel coughing up blood, his chest bathed in it.

“Heal. Heal, you idiot,” Future Dean commanded and Castiel shook his head.

“Have to…send Dean back.”

“I’m fine. I can wait. You have to heal yourself first, Cas.” Dean begged, kneeling next to him. Castiel shook his head again and before he could stop him, Castiel pressed two fingers to his forehead.

Just like that, he was kneeling on the side of the road in total darkness. Cloud cover broke and the moon lit up the wet asphalt road. Dean straightened up, looking around as he trembled, the shotgun still resting in his hand.

“Cas…” he murmured, looking down at the blood on his hands.

Castiel’s blood was always on his hands, was always going to _be_ on his hands. Unless…he ran, following the road until he topped the next hill and there it was, the barn where he and Bobby had set up, covering every inch of the wall with protection sigils. Judging by the Impala parked outside and the clarity of the night, they were inside right now, waiting.

Dean dropped the gun and fell to his knees. And then the voice came from behind him, so achingly familiar he was sure it was going to break him with the sound.

“Dean.”

He slowly stood and turned to face Castiel who looked almost exactly like he had the first time he’d seen him.

“Cas,” he murmured.

Castiel’s brow furrowed at the nickname he didn’t yet recognize and his gaze drifted past Dean to the barn below then back.

“You are out of your time.” He raised a hand to Dean’s forehead and Dean backpedaled quickly.

“Whoa, whoa, wait…I have to talk to you.”

Castiel frowned but let his hand drop. “What do you need?”

Dean sighed, shaking his head, trying to find just how to say what needed to be said.

“I know…I know you’re about to walk into that barn down there and tell me what I need to hear. I know that but…you have to go. Do what you have to, do your job, but don’t be my friend, Cas. You can’t…you can’t let yourself care about me. It’s going to break you apart.”

Looking up at Castiel, he knew that the angel didn’t understand. This was Soldier Castiel, after all. This Castiel hadn’t even begun to contemplate what he would end up doing in the future. Or the past, however you wanted to look at it.

“Look,” Dean huffed, stepping forward and grabbed Castiel’s wrist, holding his hand to his forehead. “Mind meld me.”

“I don’t…”

“…understand that reference, I know. Just…do that thing where you look in my head and look at my memories, specifically the past six years. The one’s with you in them. Go on, look.”

Castiel looked at him, confused, but Dean just stared right back, determined. After a moment, he felt Castiel’s gaze shift and his grace flowed through his mind. Hands that could slay demons were as gentle with him as a mother with her kittens. Dean focused then relaxed, letting Castiel see everything. He saw the memories as Castiel sifted through them, seeing the moments that led to Castiel choosing to fall, rebelling against Raphael and Michael, becoming human, becoming an angel again, freeing the Leviathan, losing his sanity, and fighting their way back out of Purgatory. He watched Castiel’s face but the angel’s expression never changed and that’s when Dean noticed more memories were replaying against his eyelids, good memories of when he’d tried to get Castiel laid, discovering the angel’s high tolerance for alcohol, the jokes, the angel’s endearing way of missing a pop culture reference, the time he and Sam had argued over Castiel’s music preference…there was good there, mixed in with the bad.

_“…I know that you love him, not the same way you love Sam but in a way that’s just as powerful, just as fierce.”_

Dean looked up and met Castiel’s gaze before he closed his eyes, terrified but suddenly determined. This may be his last chance ever to show the angel how he felt so he opened himself to Castiel completely, not just his memories but his _emotions_. The way he felt every time the angel stepped too close, the way his heart would race, how his gaze would linger over the angel’s lips, how he would hunger for any physical contact, no matter how brief…the things he could never say out loud but only grew stronger for their forbidden nature.

_I love you, Castiel._

Castiel gasped and Dean nearly fell forward when the angel pulled his hand back. Dean opened his eyes, blinking, and Castiel met his gaze with wide eyes.

“Cas…”

He stepped forward and Castiel stepped back, worrying his bottom lip in a gesture so human that Dean almost forgot that this was Soldier Castiel. This Castiel didn’t feel human emotions yet, wasn’t his Castiel yet.

“Dean…” Castiel said softly, the tiniest smile breaking his lips. “I have been yours for a very long time, even now.”

This time when Dean stepped forward, Castiel didn’t back away. The angel’s hands were steady at his side and when Dean slid an arm around his waist, pulling them together, Castiel shifted forward, molding himself against his chest. Castiel looked up at him, quiet, and Dean slowly pressed their lips together, groaning softly in his throat. For a moment, Castiel was frozen against him before Dean coaxed a response out of him, pressing soft, chaste kisses against the angel’s mouth until Castiel began to kiss him back, learning quickly. His hands slid up Dean’s shoulders and Dean’s kisses grew more frenzied until he was fisting his hands in Castiel’s dark hair, holding the angel’s head as he pushed his tongue past the angel’s lips. Castiel met and matched him and Dean pulled away only when he began to get lightheaded from forgetting to breath.

Castiel trembled in his arms and Dean shook his head, holding him tightly.

“All this time…you knew…you _always_ knew…why? Why would you stay knowing what I was going to put you through?”

Castiel smiled at him and Dean already knew the answer.

“Promise me, Cas…promise me that no matter what I do, no matter what I say to you, or how much I fuck up, you’ll remember this…remember us. Remember that you’re my best friend and I love you. Promise me.”

“I promise, Dean.” Castiel breathed.

Dean looked behind him to the barn where his past self was waiting with Bobby then looked back to Castiel. He took in the rumpled suit, bitten lips, and messed-up hair with a new pride. Now he knew why Castiel looked like that the first time he’d seen him.

“So can you…”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Castiel laid two fingers on his forehead…and he fell into Castiel’s arms.

His Castiel.

Blood dripped down the angel’s chin and onto his suit, marred by the demon’s attack and Sam was behind him, pulling the Knife from the demon’s meatsuit.

“Dean!” Sam cried happily. “What happened?”

Dean looked from Castiel to his brother then back to Castiel. The angel looked like he should be sacked out, not trying to hold him up. “Cas…”

Castiel released him and stepped back. “I apologize. You seem well.”

Dean laughed and stepped forward again, taking Castiel’s head in both hands and kissing him warmly.

“O-oh!” Sam stammered. “Well…um…o-kay?…”

Castiel melted against him before quickly wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders, holding him tightly as if he might fade away. Dean realized that while it had been seconds for him, it had been six years for Castiel, and he wrapped his arms tightly around the angel’s waist, lifting him up onto his toes. Castiel whined softly, tangling his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Guys…” Sam protested, huffing and Dean pulled away laughing.

“Damn, Sammy, way to ruin a moment…”

Sam leveled a glare at him before turning around, heading out and down the stairs to the street. Dean turned back to Castiel, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you always knew and you still stuck around.”

“I promised.” Castiel stated firmly and Dean smiled, hell, he was fucking grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, glad you kept that promise.”

-

**Epilogue**

_“Castiel.”_

Castiel looked up at the sound of his name being called, recognizing Michael’s voice. Why would the great archangel address him directly? What orders could be so important? He stretched his wings before kneeling and bowing his head.

“I am here, sir.”

_“You will descend into Hell and retrieve the soul of Dean Winchester. He is to be restored to his human body and you will be his guardian until such time as you are told differently.”_

“Yes, sir.”

As he straightened, he saw Rachael and Balthazar come running.

“We’re going with you.”

“Michael did not order you to go.” Castiel protested softly and Balthazar laughed.

“Yeah, and? He also didn’t order us not to go and you can’t go into Hell alone no matter how much of a prodigy you are.”

Castiel blushed, his wings rustling with his discomfort before the older angel elbowed him.

“Come on, let’s go south for the winter.”

The three of them stretched their wings in sync and leapt from Heaven, the first angels to leave home in millennia. They passed through Earth in seconds and descended still, coming to rest before the gates of Hell. Balthazar and Rachel flanked forward, Castiel bringing up the rear with his silver blade in hand. The gates burst open, demons pouring out towards them and his two companions raised their hands together, their grace shining forward and tearing at the foul beasts.

It took them three weeks to fight their way down to where Dean Winchester was being held and another four days to secure the area so that Castiel could retrieve his soul and begin the climb back out. Fighting against the hordes, Castiel lost track of Balthazar and Rachael, flying as hard as he could for Earth. His wings were torn and bloody and he was exhausted but he held Dean’s soul tight against him, wrapped safely in his grace. It burned there, so bright and beautiful even after all the pain and torment it had suffered through. So much strength.

Castiel took a moment to recover his strength upon reaching Earth, cradling Dean’s soul carefully as if it might break. He could feel it against his grace, a strange sensation for which he had no name. It touched him and he longed to come to know the man to whom it belonged. This overwhelming longing, as if he would not be complete without Dean’s soul next to him. It took everything in him to stand and stretch his wings once more, carrying Dean’s soul to where Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer had buried his body.

Cell by cell, atom by atom, he reconstructed Dean’s body with the utmost care and precision before he lowered his soul back into it. He waited until Dean took his first gasping breath before he truly let go.

The loss that simple act filled him with was unexpected and he nearly wept, overcome by sudden emotions that he couldn’t place or name. Exhausted, he stretched his wings and sought out a safe place to rest and try to understand what was happening to him.

Balthazar and Rachael found him resting on a mountain in south Arizona, dozing even as he spoke to his vessel, trying to convey the importance of their mission. If Dean could not perceive his true form, then they would have to find an alternate method of communication.

“How are you, captain?” Rachael asked quietly and Castiel gave her a weary smile.

“I am well, Rachael, thank you. I must stay and watch over Dean Winchester but the two of you should return home to heal.”

Rachael nodded and stretched her small wings, heading home quickly. Balthazar hesitated, touching his shoulder.

“Be careful, cap’n. Human souls…there’s a reason we’ve stayed out of Earth for so long.”

“Do not worry, Balthazar. The garrisons are moving. I am not alone here.”

“We’ll be back as soon as Michael gives the order.”

Balthazar took off after Rachael and Castiel stretched his wings, seeking out Dean Winchester once again. It was surprisingly easy, not because Dean hadn’t gone far but because Castiel could still feel the imprint of his soul against his grace.

He found him in a small store a few miles from his gravesite. He stopped a few hundred yards away, careful not to get too close to the now fragile human. He cleared his throat softly before dropping his voice.

_“Dean, we need to talk.”_ He whispered as softly as he could.

He felt Dean’s pain and flinched as the windows shattered, covering his mouth with one hand and he tried to protect Dean from the energy his grace emitted. Dean recovered and hotwired a car, taking off down the road. Castiel fretted, the feeling of loss there once again. He decided to go and visit his vessel; perhaps that would be the easiest way to reach Dean. As he stopped next to the store, taking in the damage, he frowned and flexed his wings in disappointment.

It would probably be the safest way as well.

Still, Jimmy Novak was slow to respond to him and with all that was coming, Castiel wanted to give the man time to think about his choice. So he sought out Dean one more time to try again. Finding him in a motel, he stationed himself a full three miles away from Dean and once again, whispered.

_“Dean, I need to talk to you.”_

Somehow, the fall out was worse this time. Dean wound up on the floor with his ears bleeding and Castiel covered his face with his hands as Bobby dragged Dean from the room and pushed him into the car. Castiel sighed and went the opposite direction, flying back to his vessel. He was now certain he was going to need his vessel to communicate with Dean. He was lucky though because when he reached Jimmy once again, Jimmy was ready to receive him.

It took him several precious hours to get used to residing in the human’s body. He had to dim his grace so as not to burn Jimmy’s soul but still it crackled powerfully around him. It would take time he didn’t have to bind his wings down so they didn’t affect the electrical network around him. So he spread them instead and flew to where Dean and Bobby were waiting for him.

And stopped, landing in the field outside of the barn. Dean was waiting for him…and waiting for him in the barn.

“Cas,” the Dean closest to him murmured and he frowned. Was that supposed to be short for Castiel? He looked past the surface, seeing the years on this Dean, far more than the one beyond in the barn.

“You are out of your time.”

He reached up to return Dean to his proper time but Dean ducked his hand, stepping back.

“Whoa, whoa, wait…I have to talk to you.”

Castiel frowned but let his hand drop. What could this Dean have to say to him? This Dean was from six years in the future, six years on Earth…centuries in Heaven.

“What do you need?” he asked calmly, unused to the sound of his own voice grating over human vocal chords. He wished he didn’t sound so rough.

He watched as Dean fidgeted, nervous, his hands worrying at the edges of his sleeves. He took in the human’s heightened heart rate and the way he licked his lips, worrying.

“I know… I know you’re about to walk into that barn down there…”

Castiel’s gaze flicked to the barn below. That had been his intention.

“…do what you have to, do your job, but don’t be my friend, Cas.” Friend?

“You can’t let yourself care about me…” Too late.

“It’s going to break you apart.”

Was this the epitome of the new sensations he’d been experiencing since contact with Dean’s soul? Friendship? To be a companion of a human would be a truly new experience and one warned about in Heaven. Humans and angels were not meant to coexist. They were beings of different worlds and Castiel knew that staying too long in the company of humans could lead to doubt, death for an angel of his standing.

“Look,” the man huffed, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand to his own forehead. Castiel looked up at him curiously. “Mind meld me.”

….what?

“I don’t….”

“…understand that reference, I know,” Dean sighed with an exasperation that said this line was one Castiel repeated often. The angel frowned, trying to figure out what Dean wanted from him.

“…look in my head and look at my memories, specifically the past six years, the ones with you in them. Go on, look.”

_‘…the ones with you in them…’_

Castiel knew he shouldn’t look but in the end it was curiosity that led him to gently extend his grace into Dean’s mind, seeking out the memories he mentioned, specifically looking for ones that included himself.

There were so _many._

A human companion he became, without hesitation, without a second’s breadth of waiting, he watched himself fall and fight and slaughter his brothers and sisters all in the name of this human, finding a new cause outside the horn of Heaven’s battle cry, and then…amidst all the pain and anguish and guilt he saw something else. Something…happy…happiness as he had never seen in his own face, adoration guided him and companionship and he saw in himself love for the two Winchesters that he never thought he could feel.

Dean looked up at him and he looked back, confused and frightened, and the images being played for him changed again. This time, Dean showed him his own personal thoughts rather than simple images. Emotions, attachments…a surging cascade of images and _fantasies_ concerning him and an overwhelming feeling that matched the one that had been plaguing him all day.

_I love you, Castiel._

Love.

He fell back, gasping, feeling his vessel’s heart pounding in his chest. His wings fluttered in pain and terror.

“Cas…” Dean stepped towards and he fell back, afraid for the first time in millennia. How could he love a human? But it was already so. He already felt it in his soul, the attachment to Dean that would never lessen, only grow. Dean looked at him sadly and Castiel almost laughed as he heard the human’s woe. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand…Castiel had loved him from the moment he laid his hands on him in Hell.

“Dean…” he breathed, his voice nearly breaking under the onslaught of emotions he didn’t understand. “I have been yours for a very long time, even now.”

Dean stepped towards him again and he froze, eyes wide as the human, the soul he had pulled from Hell only hours before, pressed his lips gently to his vessel’s. He didn’t know what to do, how to respond, until Dean’s lips moved against his and he copied the movement, shocked at the thrill it sent through both his vessel and his own being. He wanted to be closer to the man and slid his arms over his shoulders. Dean responded quickly, pulling him tight against his chest. He relished the feel of the man’s tongue in his mouth, the way his hands felt in his hair, and when Dean pulled away to take a breath, he was trembling.

“All this time…you knew…you _always_ knew…why? Why would you stay knowing what I was going to put you through?”

Castiel smiled at him, unsure of what else to do, of what else to say but Dean just nodded, understanding.

“Promise me, Cas…promise me that no matter what I do, no matter what I say to you, or how much I fuck up, you’ll remember this…remember us. Remember that you’re my best friend and I love you. Promise me.”

“I promise, Dean.” Castiel breathed.

 For a moment, they simply looked at one another and Castiel knew it was about time for them to part. Dean had to return to his own time and he had to go forward and face the next six years knowing that he would have to wait that long to feel this again.

“So can you…”

He pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead and felt him disappear. He stretched out his grace and checked to make sure Dean had arrived in his own time safely before he walked forward to the barn. It was going to be hard but he could wait. He had promised.

The promise…

The promise proved far harder to keep than he expected. Young Dean was brutal with his words and sometimes completely close-minded to the bigger picture at stake and even more often, rather selfish with his demands.

Save the world, Castiel.

Save my brother, Castiel.

Save me, Castiel.

Rarely a ‘please’ or a ‘thank you’ but if he didn’t help, then he was the one at fault.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, things started to change. The happiness that he’d seen began to shape its way into their lives and slowly, Dean’s words started to lose their edge. Kinder words took their place and even if they were rare and few and far between, he started to be able to see past what Dean didn’t say to what he wanted to say but was afraid to.

And he stayed, soon not because he had promised to, but because he knew that it was his place in the world. Right there, forever, next to Dean Winchester.

And one day, one day six years from the first time he’d kissed Dean Winchester, he got to kiss him again.

He could tell that only seconds before Dean had been standing with him on the hilltop six years ago but now he was here and that was all that mattered. He clung to Dean’s neck, unwilling to let a single inch of space between them as Dean turned from him to say something to Sam and Sam walked out in a huff. But he could tell Sam wasn’t really upset. In fact, he was actually quite happy and relieved.

Then Dean turned back to him. “I can’t believe you always knew and you still stuck around.”

“I promised.” Castiel stated firmly and watched a grin threaten to break Dean’s face in twain.

“Yeah, glad you kept that promise.”

Castiel swallowed nervously. He’d thought about what he wanted to say to Dean in this moment for years, had planned it over and over again in his head, played it out, _acted_ it out and now…everything profound that he’d wanted to say just left him and he went with what a dear friend has once suggested to him.

“Dean,” he said softly, leaning up to whisper against the shell of Dean’s ear. “You have a very repressed angel on your hands here.”

Dean blinked in surprise, his eyes wide for a moment before he smirked. “I can fix that.”

“Promise?” Castiel teased, fighting back a smile.

“Yeah,” Dean murmured against his lips. “Yeah, I promise. Every day, for the rest of forever and what not.”

Castiel smiled, he couldn’t help it…for Winchesters never broke their promises.


End file.
